The tale of two idiots
by Sinister Tomato
Summary: A series of stories focusing on Maes Hughes and Roy Mustang. No chronological order. Genres and ratings vary.
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer: I don't own full metal alchemist or any of it's characters.

Notes: My first story in this fandom. Every time I watch an anime, I can't help but wonder what the kid versions of adult characters would be like. So I made this up. It's actually only between two characters. None of it is intended to be true so don't take it seriously. Just experimenting and having a little fun.

This is the rating because it contains one bad word. But that wasn't the meaning the word implied. And if your the type of person that doesn't cuss, you'll probably find a few very minor curse words.

Summary: Maes Hughes: Age 11. Roy Mustang: Age 9. The meeting of two idiots.

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The small countryside town of Hampton was a quaint and peaceful little town. Littered with meadows and small valleys. Not much happened in this town. It was different from the big cities like Central or Dublith. No tall buildings or many cars. Children could play to their hearts content without having their parents worry or fussing over them.

Of course, not all children played.

One child in particular leaned against the trunk of a thick tree as he watched boys his age slinging mud at each other. The shade provided cool winds and soft breezes. His raven-black hair ruffled against the wind. His eyes were deep pools of black, but warm. Filled with young innocence and a hunger for knowledge. At least the knowledge part was right. The little boy was interested in alchemy: the science of transforming one substance into another through means of equivalent trade.

Because of his small obsession with alchemy, he didn't play with the other children. Not that he wanted to be left alone, but he practiced alchemy and he knew an ignorant child would probably step into his array and then he would be blamed for that child's loss of something, be it an eye or arm. He didn't feel like being blamed for anything so he distanced himself. Best to play it safe, his grandparents always said.

He didn't have many resources when it came to alchemy. The only chance he had was to ask a passing alchemist, or buy books from the junk shop with his weekly pocket change. No alchemists dwelled in this small town. Too small for research. He lived with his grandparents and they knew nothing about alchemy except the law of equivalence.

Perhaps this boy dwelled too much on alchemy, for he didn't seem to know much else. He knew quite a bit for a nine-year old when it came to the sciences but, it seemed he still didn't know a few of the more important things, things that were often taken for granted.

But it wasn't exactly his fault that he didn't know what those things were. He was too young to have had the time to realize it then. Then again, time waited for no one.

The same boy walked through the upper trail with a pure look of boredom. People occasionally passed by saying a usual 'hi' or 'hello' or any other greeting that was known. Two little blonde girls passed by with small baskets full of flowers. Twins. They were talking to each other briefly, and the boy caught the words "Mom is going to like these!"

_Mom?_

The boy twisted his head a little at the word 'mom'. He remembered asking his grandparents what that word meant five years ago. They were hesitant to explain but did so anyway. A mom was a woman that gave birth to their children. She would take care of them and would be one of two parents. The other parent was a 'dad'. He would be around the same as the mom but the dad could not give birth.

While Roy had been trying to process that information about parents, his grandparents eventually came upon the subject of sex and babies. Whatever any of that was, Roy didn't know and he wouldn't know for a while. He realized that whatever they were talking about, he probably didn't want to hear so he cut that explanation short by simply saying, "Stop! I'm not ready for any of that stuff!"

He could hardly remember which of anybody's parents was the mother and which was the father at that time so that wasn't the time to confuse him more. And he had a feeling it would've been a rather nasty explanation. Even though they explained it was a natural process, it still sounded nasty. A lot of natural things seemed nasty for some strange reason.

He remembered idiotically asking his grandparents if they were his parents. Of course they replied 'no' and chuckled at the naive question. But they said his parents were nice people that would always help people in need no matter who they were. When he asked where they were, the old couple's replies became tense. His father died in an accident before he was born. His mother passed away a week after giving birth to him as her body couldn't recover from the stress and damage. There was no doctor available at that time and a midwife was out of the question, so the neighbors had to make do.

His mother lived long enough to name him. Roy Mustang. Said boy smiled slightly. His last name was amusing to him. He didn't understand why his father's surname was Mustang. He was fine with 'Roy' being his first name. And he was fine with 'Mustang' being his surname. But his surname sounded like a horse to him. He pondered the different possibilities of surnames using different names of horses.

_Roy Mustang…Roy Horse? Roy Palomino? Roy Stallion? Roy Pony? Blech! I'm happy with my original name._

Then he went farther into the species.

_Roy Donkey? Roy Mule? Roy…Ass? Damn, my name can be insulted pretty easily. Sucks._

But Roy still snickered at his surname alterations. As ridiculous as they were, he couldn't help but laugh at them. He hadn't arrived at the age of pride yet so he felt no embarrassment toward his thoughts so far. He decided that Mustang was definitely the best of them.

Loud footsteps pounded on the dirt behind him. He didn't bother to turn around as he thought whatever it was would see him. He suddenly felt something large collide with his back as both rolled and skidded painfully on the dirt.

_Great. Looks like I was wrong._

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx _

Another boy that didn't play with other children often was currently running from an angry horse. He didn't intend to make it mad. He was passing by when all of a sudden he bumped into it's rear. It was his fault for not paying attention to the road but this horse quite plainly just had a horrible temper.

_Uh-oh..._

"Uh, good horsy?"

The boy's black, naturally spiked hair blew in all directions as he ran as fast as he could down the trail with an angry horse closing in behind him.

_Why me?_

He questioned God, the fates, and just about anything. That was enough to annoy everyone within the vicinity of his voice. The boy had interesting qualities. He was quite perceptive and thought things through before doing them, which was saying a lot, as few did the same. But he was also hyperactive and clumsy and loved to brag about anything to just about anything that had ears. But he was clever as well. No one knew exactly how to classify him. He was a busy-body but, he was hilarious and good-natured as well.

There was also another good quality about him: He helped just about anyone in any way he deemed fitting. He had a habit of poking up his glasses with his middle finger often. The glasses weren't too big. But for some reason they slipped off.

The boy was rather fond of talking. Talking lots. He barely ever shut up for long. Sometimes he'd say the wrong things and sometimes he'd hit the mark. His words were wild cards unto themselves.

The boy lived with his parents. No siblings as he was the only child. He didn't care. He was content with the fact that he wouldn't be bothered but he was sad that he had a few less people to bother. His family had recently moved to this little countryside. He started meeting people quickly and within the first week he'd met everyone.

Or so he thought.

The boy was still running and started running faster as his adrenaline finally kicked in. He knew he would eventually have to stop but he hoped it wasn't soon. He poked up his glasses as they started to slip every so often.

"Maes Hughes! What do you think your doing?"

Oh no. That was a voice he knew all too well

"I'm running from a horse, mom!" he said in a combination of panic and joviality, a thing only he could manage to do.

He didn't want his mother to worry. But he was currently more worried about his own hide as opposed to his mother's way of worry.

_I'm not ready to die!_

Maes Hughes heard a long neigh echo from the horse, and he turned his head to find that the horse's owner had stopped him in his tracks. Maes would've stopped but, as he turned his eyes to the road, he found himself colliding into something a little shorter than him but large nonetheless.

_What the-?_

Roy rubbed the back of his aching head as he stared at the heap of the thing that collided into him. Another boy. Taller. Older. The other boy stood up as well and also began to analyze each other. They both noticed each other's gazes and they looked away.

"Watch where your going." Was Roy really that small to overlook or was he just invisible?

"Sorry."

Roy could only stare and then he pointed at the boy's nostrils. "Your nose is bleeding."

Maes stared and pointed at Roy's head. "Your head's bleeding."

So, one obvious thing was established: They were both bleeding.

Maes stretched out his hand. "Maes Hughes. Just moved here."

Roy stared blankly at the outstretched hand and took it. "Roy Mustang. Been here all my life."

"Mustang? Ironic. I was just being chased by a horse."

At that, Roy snickered and waved his hand at Maes's questioning gaze. "I'll explain later."

Maes picked up his glasses. One of the lenses was cracked and the other was on the ground completely shattered. "My glasses broke. Damn. My mom is going to kill me."

Roy looked at him questioningly. "I break my glasses a lot," was the reply he received for his efforts. Roy didn't ask permission as he took the glasses from the other boy's hands. He put a finger to his head and wiped off a bit of blood as he drew a small array on the ground. He put his hands on the ground and electricity crackled in the air around them. The light died and Maes stepped back as Roy shoved the glasses on his face. The lenses were good as new.

Maes took them off and observed them while Roy waited patiently.

"Wow. You're an alchemist?"

Roy nodded.

"Thanks."

Roy waved off the gratitude. "Forget it."

Maes looked at his house behind him and suddenly had an idea. "Hey, you want to come to my house?"

Roy's eyes widened at the invitation. "Uh…" was all he could muster from his throat.

Maes pushed. "Come on. I have some other things I want you to fix. Plus you can get a bandage for your head. And my mom bakes good pie."

Before Roy could protest, Maes had already took hold of his newfound friend's wrist and dragged him along to his house, yapping away as if his nose wasn't throbbing and the recent horse incident never happened.

Roy stared at Maes with another blank look, oblivious to what the future held.

_What have I gotten myself into?_

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Roy's surname really reminded me of a horse when I first heard it. I thought I heard wrong so I went back to introduction many times. The different variations of his name were fun to write and think of. It was hard to type while laughing. Yeah, I laugh at weird things. I don't know how the two met or when but I wanted to make this up after watching episode 25 again. The nostalgic feeling was getting to me. I remind you again, don't take this story seriously. You think Roy would really insult himself? Actually, I'm not sure of that...If I think of more, I might put up a few more chapters just for fun. If someone actually read this, tell me what you think._  
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	2. Moving On

Disclaimer: I don't own full metal alchemist in any way shape or form or whatever. This includes the characters and anything related.

Warning:…Erm…none, really. This is just a series of short stories. Or long, depending on the subject.

A/N: I started this a long time ago and never continued it. Well, writer's block has ceased so I'm continuing this. This is supposed to be a series of short stories focused on Hughes and Mustang. If I feel like it, I might add more of the other characters depending on the situation of the subject. They don't have a particular chronological order but I'll give you the ages before I begin at the start of each bit.

Maes Hughes: 14

Roy Mustang: 12

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"Come onnnnn…" A young boy's lips were put into a full-blown pout. 

The pout met it's defeat by an ominous glare. "Go away if you're not going to be quiet."

"Hmph. You're no fun when you're practicing." The boy turned his back to his friend's glare.

Roy Mustang couldn't care less about his friend's antics at the moment. He was busy drawing a complex array on a scrap of paper with a pen, one that had be absolutely precise lest it rebound. His round, pale face was screwed up in anticipation and frustration as he curved the lines meant to combine the pure elements.

Maes Hughes stared pointedly at the pile of dirt with distaste. "You done?"

Roy didn't respond, but suddenly stopped and snapped his head up. "Yeah."

"So," Maes grunted as he pointed at the blue chalk of the array, "What are you going to do?"

"Make some flowers."

Maes raised an eyebrow, his mouth open to ask, but he stopped as gold sparks erupted under his friend's hands and the array, swirling around the dirt. Just as his friend had proclaimed, he transmuted flowers. Sunflowers to be exact.

"What are they for?"

Roy slowly stood up from his crouch and picked up the sunflowers, wrapping them in delicate onion paper as he shoved open the screen door. He snapped his head back to look at Maes. "You coming or not?" Without waiting for an answer, he stepped out, the screen door shutting itself behind his back.

After a short jog, Maes eventually caught up with his rather fast companion. "Where are we going?"

Roy didn't respond, but moved faster with each step. Eventually, he broke into a dead run, cutting across the main path, over Mr. McKinsey's fence, into his vegetable garden, and disappearing into the corn field.

Being able to do nothing to stop his friend, Maes just blinked at the direction of the McKinsey farm. Without understanding the automatic actions of his body, he began to run in the same direction Roy had gone, over the fence, into the garden, and through the corn field. After spitting out the dirt and leaves out of his mouth, he took a better look at his surroundings.

He was in a sea of tall, thin, swaying emeralds as far as the eye could see. A meadow of lush green grass. His jaw hung slack in awe at the hidden meadow. He didn't know it was here. He didn't even know it existed. Snapping out of his stupor, Maes turned his head left and right. There was no sign of Roy anywhere. Maybe he went in the wrong direction…

"You made it."

The voice was sudden, familiar, but it nearly had Maes leaping out of his skin. Goosebumps ran along his arms and he visibly shivered. "You! Don't do that! What's with you and walking around the place like a ghost?"

Roy only shrugged in response and began to walk through the forest of corn. His face was kept blank so even Maes couldn't read his features. His companion betrayed no body movement that would even suggest discomfort. Nothing was wrong, Maes could tell that much, but there was something he felt he should know.

"Hey, Roy, what happened to the flowers?"

They stepped out of the forest of corn and into the meadow of cabbage. "I gave them to someone."

"Who?"

There was no time for an answer.

By now, they were halfway through the garden when someone suddenly began to scream, "George! I think someone's in the garden!"

"What?"

Both boys forgot about the topic at hand automatically and in unison, instantly darted through the rest of the meadow of cabbage, dove headfirst over the wooden fence, and sprinted down the main path to Roy's house, neither daring to stop until they at least made it to the front porch.

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The next night, Maes Hughes went to investigate the meadow further. Deciding to go in the middle of the night when most people would be slumbering, including his parents and the McKinseys, he feigned sleep until it was two in the early morning. He quietly snuck out of his room through the window and climbed down the thick vines that had grown up the side of his window and over the roof. Carefully dropping down, he walked along the main path in a lazy slouch without worry of being spotted by passerby or a random person coincidentally looking out of their window.

What was that idiot hiding from him? Sure, they'd only known each other a few years, but shouldn't that have been enough? They'd certainly already been through more than either could've imagined, and neither of them planned on dying anytime soon so they would still go through a lot.

He finally arrived at the McKinseys. He cringed mentally at the thought of being caught. The McKinseys were nice people, if you didn't get on their bad side. Maes hadn't gotten on their bad side yet, but the stories Roy told him about his own journey through their bad side had been enough. Being whacked on the butt by a broomstick was no empty threat.

Maes went through the same routine through the garden, this time more slowly and carefully. Tracing his path through the corn stalks, he came upon the meadow for the second time this week. This time, however, the meadow appeared to be more ominous than beautiful under the moonlight. Perhaps it was just his own fear of being caught reflecting off everything around him.

Not knowing where to begin, he walked straight ahead. This part of town was unfamiliar to him. Roy had never shown him this place before, nor had he ever even made mention of it. Across the corn field was a thin forest. The trees' height made up for their thinness. A path had been cleared through the forest. Shrugging in resolve, Maes bravely marched on, silently wishing he hadn't gone out in the first place.

The cold, autumn air blew through his short, spiked hair and around his neck, making the hairs growing on the back stand up on end. Goosebumps inflicted themselves through the skin of his arms. He felt stupid for wearing his pajamas out in this weather, and regretted not bringing with him a jacket.

He shivered and cringed as the air around him felt thick with ice. The trees cast long and slim shadows over the path. They creaked, sounding almost as if they were animate and moving. Maes set his jaw, squared his shoulders, and marched straight ahead, not once looking back or around him. He would not be afraid of the dark, damn it. Definitely not the shadows or the trees or of some kind of monster leaping out of the shadows to devour him bit by bit, tearing his flesh apart…

And that did it. He broke out on a dead run down the leaf-covered path as fast as his legs could carry him, his feet kicking up the dead and rotting leaves behind him. He willed himself not to look back or stray from the path. He really began to regret going out.

Seeing the end of the path, he pushed his strength farther and mustered up enough adrenaline to pump his way over the short, stone barricade just on the edge of the forest. Panting harder than he ever did in his short life, he looked around as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He suddenly began to feel as though he would've been much safer in the forest than where his feet had carried him. He was standing on the edge of a cemetery. A small cemetery. Gravestones that were carved in the forms of angels, carved in the forms of crosses, carved in the traditional way, even unmarked ones stood on the area.

_Get a grip, damn it! Your fourteen! You shouldn't be afraid of that kind of crap! There are no such things as zombies or ghosts or vampires or…whatever, he chanted mentally to himself, hoping it would work in some way. It didn't._

Up ahead, he could make out the faint outline of a small gate adjacent to him. As he made his way to the gate, he didn't see the root growing out of the ground just below his feet. His foot went perfectly in the loop, causing him to go flying over one of the gravestones and landing in front of another one. He slowly stood up and brushed himself off. Cleaning his pajamas before his parents found out would be troublesome.

Out of sheer curiosity, he glanced at the headstone he had landed in front of and instead of just glancing, he stared hard at the name engraved on the stone.

_**Robert Mustang**_

_**1855-1886**_

_**Caring husband, good friend, and almost a father.**_

Maes continued to stare at the headstone for a long time. On the ground in front of it, was a pile of gray ash. Still confused and dumbfounded, he looked at the headstone to it's left.

_**Delia Mustang**_

_**1858-1886**_

_**Loving wife and wonderful friend whose chance of motherhood had been drastically cut short.**_

In front of this headstone lay the sunflowers Roy had transmuted yesterday afternoon.

Roy Mustang reluctantly swung his feet out of bed, threw off his pajamas in favor of a pair of gray pants and a red t-shirt, and trudged downstairs in a sleepy haze.

Neither of his grandparents had awoken yet so he had free reign over himself for the time being. Without bothering to eat, he went outside for some air. Being cramped in the attic and reading volume after volume of texts tended to have repercussions, such as inhaling mass amounts of dust. From what he knew, textile lung was not a pleasant experience.

"You're finally up."

Roy froze, his shoulders tensing, then relaxed slowly as he recognized the voice. Turning to the speaker, he replied casually, "Yeah, I am. What is it?"

Maes appeared solemn. "I didn't know your parents passed away. I thought they were just gone for a while, sort of like Lillian's parents. "

Roy blinked in surprise and then cracked a tiny smile. "You went through the woods to the cemetery, didn't you?" When Maes nodded, he chuckled. "You know, I didn't expect you to go that far just to find out where I went."

Maes grinned mirthlessly. "What're friends for." Then he added, "By the way, who put that shortcut there?"

"I did." Roy turned sharply on the heel of his tearing sneakers and leaned against the screen door with an almost amused expression dancing on his features. "Wasn't hard. An array for extracting the dirt and another array for parting the dirt into an actual path."

Maes shifted uncomfortably under Roy's sleepy, almost lazy gaze. "Then what was that ash on your dad's headstone?"

"That," Roy began, "was just some of his belongings that were lying around."

Maes crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against one of the white beams holding up the front porch. "You could've told me." His words had a double meaning.

Roy, having caught on, appeared mildly surprised and sighed, exasperated at the lack of understanding people had these days. It was time to go into explanations. "What's there to tell? Look, not everyone cries about this kind of thing. Nor does everyone complain and whine about it. There isn't any point in all the angst, so why do it at all?" He took a breath and began again, this time more quietly. "I've already been sad about it. I'm tired of that. Nobody wants to live in that kind of shadow. It's time to move on."

As he stepped down the porch, leaving a stunned Maes standing rigidly against the beam of the porch, he added in an undertone, "Besides, I'm surprised you could even see the names on the stones, considering how blind you are about everything…"

Maes, forgetting all about the serious topic he had brought up and now focusing on the taunting jibe, twitched his eyebrows. "Shut up…"

Roy actually seemed to stop and consider that for a moment. Then he turned on his heel and grinned maniacally, all mode of seriousness dissipated. "Make me."

Maes drew himself up to his full height, the morning sun flashing dangerously across his rectangular spectacles. He appeared about as sinister as the schoolmaster when she caught some unfortunate child cheating. Immediately, he leapt off the porch and both boys dashed down the winding path, one chasing and the other escaping, but both were laughing until they were breathless.

They were moving on.

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A/N: The taunting bit at the end was added to lighten the mood. After all, I'm trying to focus mainly on humor here. 

I like Mustang to angst just as much as the next person, but not many people seem to try something new. Some people make Mustang sound like a whiny teenager and that's just overdoing it. Wanted to try something a little different with him instead of angst.

As usual, give me constructive criticism. I could use it.


	3. Generation to Generation

Disclaimer: I don't own full metal alchemist nor have I ever claimed to. I don't want to, either.

A/N: Edited the previous two chapters. Noticed the amount of glaring errors and it frightened me. Also had to add things. The format is annoying...

Warning: One really, tiny, minor spoiler, for the people who watch the dubs. Most likely, you won't notice unless you read into it. If your that picky about it, make sure not to read the notes at the end explaining the use of the spoiler.

Maes Hughes: 17

Roy Mustang: 15

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"Roy, remind me again why you're doing this," Maes stated as he bit off a honey-dipped dumpling from the edge of a thin stick. 

Roy planted his cheek firmly on his fist as his elbow rested on the window frame. "To change the world. Got to start small."

"Alright," Maes chewed, "then remind me why I'm coming with you."

The corners of Roy's mouth twitched into a insuppressible smirk. He closed his eyes. "That is for me to find out and for you to eventually tell me."

"Hmph." Maes threw his head back and followed the rolling hills with his eyes, a look of nostalgia passing over his eyes and the beginnings of his stubble. He wrinkled the bridge of his nose as he frowned. "I hate trains."

Mustang cracked open an eye. "I seem to recall you saying that trains didn't bother you."

"Been a while since I've been on one." Hughes whistled for a moment before taking off his oversized white trench coat, folded it until it was the size of a pincushion, and set it on the empty seat beside him. "Onto more pressing matters," he stated while burying the back of his head into the makeshift pillow, "how do you think you can pass for a twenty-two-year old? I know your kind of older than you seem, old man, but your not that old."

Roy now had his right arm across the window frame and had his head laying on his shoulder. "Not only are you blind, but you're deaf too." The jibe earned him a grumble about frying shrimps. "I don't mean to pass for twenty-two. Just eighteen. Even I look older than that."

Hughes grinned maniacally as he replied, "Yeah, you're right. You do look older than eighteen."

Mustang growled from his spot opposite Maes, but he made no move to retort. Instead, he ignored his companion and buried his face deep into the folds of the fabric covering his shoulder.

Maes, from his oh-so-comfortable padded bench, snickered and continued to eat the sweet dumplings without a single thought of stopping. They were good, damn it, and anyone that interrupted his meal would have a knife stuck in an unpleasant area.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

"Hey."

The speaker barely dodged an unconscious punch aimed at his left temple.

"Wake up, rise and shine, and don't get violent on me, Roy."

Said person cracked open his obsidian eyes and croaked, "Mmf. We're here?"

Maes nodded as he took down both their suitcases from the luggage rack. "Yep. Looks like it. So, do you want to go register or eat first?"

The response was muffled. "I take it sleeping isn't an option?"

"Nope," came the amused reply.

Roy Mustang drug himself up to a slouched posture, took his suitcase from Hughes's seat, and proceeded to walk with Hughes trailing behind him with a grin that could have split his face.

"Seeing as how we're so close to the building," Hughes drawled, still amused, "we could stop by there and then go grab some food." Mustang shrugged and let himself trail behind Hughes.

"Central is a big city," Roy mused underneath his breath. Traveling here and there to small towns was common for him, but this was a little new. Central was just…gargantuan, compared to everywhere else he visited.

Maes pretended not to hear, although he found himself agreeing with his companion. Although he had been born in Central and had been raised a while there, he found himself walking through unfamiliar territory. Times really did change.

The walk to Central Headquarters was uneventful. They arrived without trouble, and the forms were nothing hard to fill out. Name, age, height, weight, hair color, eye color, etcetera. Then they had nothing to do but leave and finally eat. They were informed that they would receive notices when they were accepted.

"You know," Maes muttered solemnly to his companion as they left, "that receptionist said 'when you are accepted', not 'if you are accepted'. You know what that means, don't you?"

Roy nodded, trying not to think about the possibility yet. He had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Like where the nearest restaurant was located.

_xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Maes really didn't think it was humanly possible to inhale food. Then again, he'd never seen Roy starve for two days. He supposed the appetite was normal, but his friend had a way to consume that just scared the spectacles off him.

"Roy, we never gave them an address."

Roy stopped in the middle of stabbing his steak. "They'll find us."

Hughes raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure?"

"Because," he murmured while lifting up the large slab of meat by the fork, "they're the military. They have their ways of tracking people."

Right on cue, a loud voice boomed beside their table.

"Gentlemen! At last, I have found you!"

Mustang dropped his the fork, the meat slapping the plate as it went down. His mouth was open slack, his mind still trying to register the huge form standing not even a foot away. Hughes took his glasses off and rubbed them with the tablecloth, not believing what he was seeing.

Mustang regained the ability of speech. "W-who are you?"

"I am Alex Louis Armstrong, the Strong arm alchemist. I was ordered to find you and deliver these." The Armstrong fellow handed them envelopes with the military seal imprinted in wax on the flap.

_They must be desperate, _Mustang mused.

Hughes replaced his rectangular spectacles back over the bridge of his nose, and stared at the newcomer. "May I ask, how did you find us?"

Armstrong closed his eyes, raised his chin high, and began to recite as if from a script. "By using the tracking system passed down from generations to generations of the Armstrong family."

Hughes followed his dazed companion's gaze to the tile ground. A hound lay at Armstrong's feet, a very large bloodhound. Some tracking system.

"Before I go, I must inform you," the giant pointed a finger at Roy, "that Brigadier General Chambers wishes to speak with you tomorrow, 0900 sharp. It is about your interest to enlist as a state alchemist." With a low bow, the oversized man known as Armstrong left, bloodhound in tow.

The two teens glanced at each other. Things were already set in motion, albeit slowly.

Still, it was a start.

* * *

A/N: Concrit would be nice. Feedback is appreciated. 

On a note, Chamber's is not an OC. He's the miscellaneous General in episode 27, when he plays chess against Mustang. Chamber's isn't his name, for he has no name as of yet. I just made it up, because I can't keep calling him Brigadier General alone when there are so many.


End file.
